The Swooping Strides of Midnight Marches

1.

i seeing creeks of seamless moments
in the thickening of wrinkles
rippling in stilled darkening faces
scurrying away back on inside
to a hiding from the dawn

2.

a small brown boy
squatting down in a corner
bruising and silently erasing
in the fouling embouchuring
of this tribal embrace

3.

here some where there right in here
where long nights spread their rusing arms
rubbing as mystical promissory balms
against the rawed weathering souls
of urbaned vagabonds

Copyright © 1993 Asili Ya Nadhiri